My friend Vinny passed away almost three months ago now and things haven’t really been the same since he left. I miss him more than words can describe, but I know that he is in a better place now and hope he is happy wherever he is. Every time I saw him it seemed that he got a new tattoo somewhere on his body; he was truly an addict for ink.
I posted a dedication post to him to show how much his life meant to me and to other people who had the honor to meet him and get to know him, but some how that wasn’t enough for me. A lot of people got dedication tattoos for him and I am now one of those people.
Everyone’s tattoos regardless of the subject matter are in some way, shape, or form are different from other people’s tattoos. A decent amount of people got tattoos of stitches in Vinny’s memory because that was his nickname for a long time before he prefered being called Vinny or Little Vinny. I did not want stitches because “Stitch” was not what I saw when I was around him. I saw Vinny.
So Vinny’s name became permanently attached to me. In black, cursive letters his name was placed at the bottom of the back of my neck with his birth and death date on each side and a green bandana underneath of his name. To me the bandana represents family and Vinny almost always wore a bandana going into the mosh pit at Club Shampoo on Wednesday nights. It just so happens the last bandana I saw him wear was a green one and that was the one I wanted to go under his name.
The tattoo itself lasted a little more than an hour but there was more detail in it than in my first tattoo on my lower back. I was more relaxed during my second tattoo because I had already been through that experience and once I had relaxed it didn’t really hurt until tattoo artist William Trask got to my neck. But hey, artwork like beauty is pain and I love my tattoo so much.